The Ever Expanding Hogwarts Class of 1998
by OlegGunnarsson
Summary: An extra-dimensional being sends a hero from their universe to King's Cross in September 1991, with the goal of helping young Harry Potter. Unfortunately, they aren't the only one who decides to intervene, and the sorting that night just keeps getting longer & longer. Chapter Four featuring Gandalf from Lord of the Rings and Loki from the MCU.
1. Alexstrasza (Warcraft)

"Allie, wake up."

_Someone is saying my name, _she thought. Slowly, ever so slowly, she became aware of her surroundings. Her bones ached, her head was throbbing, she felt as if she was way too small, and her magic? That, at least, felt somewhat normal, which sent a feeling of relief through her.

Opening her eyes, she saw that she was in a small room, sitting on a red padded bench. There were windows to her right, a sliding door to her left. Above her seat, there was an ancient-looking wooden trunk in a rack of some sort. She brushed a hand through her hair, and noticed that it, at least, felt normal - even as she saw that her hands were those of a child.

It was the blonde girl in front of her that commanded her attention. By all appearances, the girl was a human teenager, her black robes offering no means of identification. The lone crest she saw matched nothing in her long experience. The girl's golden eyes, however - those, she would know anywhere.

Before she could say anything, the door slid open, and a taller human girl with blue trim on her robes looked at them. The girl was clearly looking for someone specific, for she gave them no more than a glance before closing the door and leaving them alone.

When she looked back at her friend, the blonde was grinning at her in that infuriatingly sweet way of hers. It had been centuries since that grin failed to soften her mood, and today was no exception.

"I'm sure you have questions," the blonde said.

She replied with a derisive snort. "You have no idea, Chr-" The girl's hand stopped her before she could continue.

"Ah ah ah, my name is Clarissa, here."

She sat back in her seat with a huff. "Fine, _Clarissa_, what in the name of the flight am I doing here?"

'Clarissa' gave her another grin. "Simple. You and I are going to fix everything." Her smile fell slightly, and she leaned forward. "What is the last thing you remember?"

Unbidden, the horror of the last battle came back to her. The blast of cursed acid washing across her wings, the fel magic blasting her scales, the deep growl of triumph as her throat was ripped asunder. She shuddered at the memory.

"I…. wait, I died." She looked at the blonde. "So did you. We all died."

"Not just us." All trace of amusement was gone from the girl's face, now. "That battle was but the first pebble in the avalanche that claimed the world."

Her hand went to her mouth. "Surely not."

Clarissa nodded. "Within ten years of that day, everyone was dead. Every trace of sentient life was wiped from the face of the world." She wiped a tear from her face. "Just as he planned."

"Gods," she whispered. Then she felt the cushion underneath her, and heard a distant whistle. "Wait, if we died, then how are we here? And where is here, exactly?"

The blonde smiled at her. "Do you really think I would let a little thing like the end of the world stop me from doing what I could?"

Despite herself, she found herself smiling right along with her friend. "No, I don't suppose you would."

"Of course not," Clarissa continued. "You and I are going to go back and fix everything, before it goes bad."

"Are we?" she asked, a skeptical tone in her voice. She gestured around the compartment. "And how are we to accomplish such a task from here?" She held up the sleeve of her robes, displaying her child's hands. "And how can I lead such a battle when I am but a child?"

Clarissa had the grace to look sheepish. "Well, I may have had something to do with that."

A heavy sigh. "Chromie, what did you _do?_"

"Clarissa," the blonde gently corrected. "I escaped into time, but you had died. Actually, for reals died. So, I may have kind of bargained with Death for your return."

"...You did WHAT?"

Clarissa waved her hands at her friend, trying to calm her down. "It's not as bad as all that, Allie."

"Chromie," she responded, fire in her tone. "I am Alexstrasza the Life-Binder, Queen of the Dragons and Protector of Life." She leaned forward, her gaze drilling into Clarissa's golden eyes. "I am literally the antithesis of Death. And on my behalf, you STRUCK A BARGAIN WITH HIM?"

In a quiet voice, the blonde answered. "...Maybe?"

"Gods," Alexstrasza huffed. "What must we do?"

"Not much, really." Clarissa replied. "You are going to pose as a student of magic at a small academy in a land called Britain."

_That explains the child's body, then, _thought Alexstrasza. "I have over ten thousand years of magical knowledge, how can I pretend to be a student?"

"Oh, they use different spells than we do, you'll not be bored." Clarissa gave her another grin. "They even use wands. Just think of it, _wands_!"

Driven by instinct, or perhaps a reflex given to this new body, Alexstrasza reached into the pocket of her robes. Her hand closed on a stick of wood - and she immediately felt its warmth. Drawing the wand, she gazed at it in wonder. "Oh, yes I see what you mean."

The blonde was nearly bouncing in her seat. "I had that made just for you, Allie." The wand seemed to glow slightly, and red sparks burst forth from its tip. "The willow wood is good for healing, or so I was told, and the core of the wand is a dragon heartstring." Their eyes met, and Clarissa's eyes seemed to grow wet as she spoke in barely a whisper. "I had Death gather it from you… from your corpse, Allie. The wand, it's you."

Alexstrasza could feel her magic sing as she waved the wand gently. As she watched the deep red sparks fly from the tip of the wand and spiral about the compartment, she did not think too hard about the fact that part of her true form… her _dead _true form… was embedded into this piece of wood. Part of her felt as if there was something distasteful about that idea, but the feeling she was getting from her magic drowned all of that out. In her hand, this wand felt _right_.

She didn't know any of the spells that required a wand, but in this moment none of that mattered. With this wand in hand, she felt like she could do this task, whatever it was.

Her friend watched the display with a sad smile. "What better power to guide your path," whispered Clarissa, "than your own?"

oOoOoOoOo

Alexstrasza ignored the growing noise from the corridor, as more and more students walked past. Chromie…. No, _Clarissa, _saw the look and chuckled.

"You're on a train, Allie. In about twenty minutes, a machine at the front will drag several carts like this one down a metal track. Then, a few hours later, you will arrive at the school."

"I see," said Alexstrasza. "I don't suppose there is any way out of the bargain you made?"

A grin. "Nope."

Alexstrasza sighed. "What must I do, then?"

"Oh, nothing much." Clarissa answered. "Mostly, just be yourself."

"Chromie," she replied, letting her friend see just how annoyed she was becoming. "I'm a ten thousand year old dragon, raised from the dead and sent to another world. I don't think being myself is going to do much, here."

"Well, no, not with that attitude."

"Chromie!"

"Alright, alright, fine." Alexstrasza could see the amusement in those golden eyes, even as her friend seemed to get down to business. When she continued speaking, it was not the teenaged human girl she heard, but Chronormu the Time Walker, Last of the Bronze Dragonflight.

It was moments such as these that reminded Alexstrasza why Chromie usually chose to appear as a female gnome. She kept up the appearance of a playful being, of course, but when she went to her work as a guardian of the time stream, she was all business. It was a side of her that few saw - mostly because those who knew her knew to stay out of her way when she was 'on duty', so to speak.

"In this world," she said, "there was a war between the magical beings of this island. One side, the one that fought to kill and subjugate those deemed 'lesser' magicals, had gradually gained ground over the course of a decade, and was lead by one who called himself a Dark Lord. The other side, a group seeking to defend the lawful government and the innocent, was close to losing everything. And then, there was a prophecy."

Alexstrasza kept herself from cursing. She disliked dealing with prophecies, and it sounded like this one would be no exception.

"The prophecy told the tale of a child who had the power to defeat the Dark Lord. You might ask yourself how an infant could defeat a powerful wizard, and you'd be right to do so." Chromie's eyes met Alexstrasza's, and the blonde's anger was clear. "The Dark Lord did not. His first option was to kill the child. So he went to the child's home, a hidden refuge revealed by a friend's betrayal, and slew the boy's mother and father."

The blonde's voice grew quiet once more, as she told the tale. "Then, the Dark Lord turned his wand on the toddler, and sent a blast of killing magic at the boy. Through a miraculous combination of luck, magic, and his mother's sacrifice, the killing curse rebounded, and the Dark Lord was slain."

Alexstrasza's only response was a whispered "Gods." She found her anger growing at the thought of a Dark Lord who would commit such wanton acts of malice. It was fortunate that the man was dead, or else he would have to worry about her magic making it so. Then, a horrid thought occurred to her.

"Either we're here because of the child," she said quietly, "Or we're here to deal with the Dark Lord." Her amber eyes met the golden eyes of her oldest friend. "He survived, didn't he?"

Clarissa nodded, sadly.

"And this prophecy," Alexstrasza continued, "The boy will have to face him again?"

Another nod.

Alexstrasza looked around the compartment, hiding her exasperation at the situation. Without thinking about it, her eyes fell to the compartment window, where she saw her reflection for the first time.

She was _young_, to her shock - much younger than she had thought she was. Not even a teenager, judging by the way her robes shifted around her. Her eyes retained their amber coloring, but no longer glowed with magic as they had in her previous life. Her hair was a deep red, the same color as her scales, and came only to her shoulders. Reaching a tentative hand up, she brushed her hair away from her ear, revealing what appeared to be a normal, round human ear.

When she ran her hand around her ear, she felt a very slight point - so slight, it could barely be said to be there. Her beautiful pointed ears were gone, another lost aspect of the elvish form she would assume in her previous life.

Without turning, Alexstrasza spoke again. "Will you be joining me on this adventure, Clarissa?"

"No need," the blonde replied, brightly. "You have everything you need to do your part. Just be the loyal friend I know you to be, and you'll do fine."

oOoOoOoOo

"BINDER, ALEXSTRASZA!"

Chromie's words came back to her when a thousand-year-old hat gibbered to itself as it tried to fathom her ten thousand years of memories.

After a few moments, it simply gave up. In her mind's eye, the hat replayed Chromie's instructions.

_Your friend is something else, _the hat said. _It's a shame I never sorted her._

_Perhaps you did, _replied Alexstrasza. _You just don't know it yet._

_I really hate time travel, _the hat mused.

_Me too,_ she agreed.

_Well, we've taken long enough, I think. Let's get you sorted, shall we? After all, there's only one house for you, of course._

"_HUFFLEPUFF!"_

* * *

_**A/N: **_**This is another little one shot collection, just because I wanted to post _something_ while my other stories are in various stages of progress. The idea here is that many crossovers involve a random character waking up in the Harry Potter universe. Sometimes it makes sense, after a fashion. Other times, not so much. So I thought to myself, how ridiculous can we make this scenario? **

**Alexstrasza and Chromie are two of my favorite Warcraft characters. Alexstrasza, in particular, was the focus character of my first longfic ever (Eye of the Storm, published on Ao3 under the same username as on ffn). As insert characters go, she's actually a pretty tame one - but there are aspects that interested me enough to drop 2k words on the idea. **

**Future ideas, who knows? But if I need to stretch out and write nonsense, well - now I have somewhere to put it. Maybe these will end up as stories of their own, someday. Who knows? **

**Feedback, as always, is welcome. **


	2. Evelyn Moneypenny & Vesper Lynd (Bond)

The Hogwarts Express continued to fill with the young witches and wizards of Magical Britain, children happy to reunite with friends after the long summer holidays, and eager to catch up during the long ride to Scotland and another school year.

This crowd was exactly what the black-haired Ravenclaw had hoped to avoid. She arrived at the platform an hour early, selected the perfect compartment, and even had a chance to look at the incoming first years as they nervously boarded the train.

_There are so many of them, _the voice said in the back of her head, all the more aggravating for the fact that it spoke with her own voice.

She could not help but roll her eyes. In her mind, she rebuked her 'companion' in terms she would understand.

_It is 1991, my lady,_ went her reply. _Of course there would be more children than in your time. _

_Not what I meant, my dear, _was the amused response. _Look sharp, your quarry has already made her way onto the train, and is just about to wake up. _

The girl looked alarmed as she began checking compartments. _What? _

A soft chuckling echoed in her ears as she opened the next door. Inside, she saw one of her fellow Ravenclaws, a blonde sixth year with a Greek name, speaking with an uncomfortable looking first year. The younger girl's red hair, while striking, was _not _that of the girl she was seeking.

Without a word, the door closed and she moved on.

_Ahead on your left, _said the voice.

_I would have found her, you know. _

Again, the voice chuckled. _I know, but annoying you is its own reward. And I have so few chances to amuse myself, Miss Lynd. _

Choosing not to reply, Vesper opened the next door, and found the girl she had been looking for all along.

oOoOoOoOo

Eve looked up when the door opened. Before she could say anything, a taller girl with dark hair and robes trimmed in blue stepped through.

"Where am I?" Eve asked.

The black-haired girl raised an eyebrow, a look of amusement on her face. Then she locked the door to the compartment and took a seat.

If her sudden appearance had not shocked Eve, her use of a code phrase certainly did.

"In London, it seems, September is a summer month."

Eve stared at the older girl, gobsmacked. Then she squared her shoulders and gave the correct code phrase - the one that said that she might be compromised.

"Whereas in Scotland, the weather grows even warmer."

Vesper let out a laugh at that. "No, my dear, you are not compromised. You are not going insane. This is not some mind game to ferret out Her Majesty's secrets."

"I woke up on a train as a _child_! What am I supposed to think, then?" Eve spat at the girl, infuriated that she was obviously not taking her seriously.

"Miss Moneypenny," Vesper replied, her voice taking a much harder tone. "You're here for the same reason I am."

"And what is that?" Eve asked, angrily. She did not even pause to wonder how the older girl knew her name.

"Why, Queen and Country, of course." The older girl leaned back in her seat, watching Eve carefully. Vesper allowed herself a small smile as she spoke. "There is once more a grave threat to the Realm. It is our task to set it to right."

When she had found herself in a child's body - even if it seemed to be her own - Evelyn Moneypenny had briefly panicked. She had memories of a childhood, a family, parents remarkably similar to her own, even a brother just like Marcus. But the dates… how could she have been eleven in 1991? And if this was real, what had happened to her old life?

And why was she in robes, carrying a stick, sitting on a train to Scotland?

But then another girl had walked in, and identified herself as an operative, using a code phrase she remembered. A girl who was clearly some sort of contact, one who (hopefully) would be able to explain just what was going on.

Eve sighed, deflating as the tension left her. "Alright." Her eyes met the contact's. "Brief me in."

oOoOoOoOo

_What a pair we make, _the voice said an hour later, when Eve left the compartment to go to the loo.

Vesper shook her head. "I don't recall being given much choice in the matter, my lady," she said quietly.

_Nonsense. _

"Objective truth," countered Vesper. Her eyes went to the glass of the compartment door, where her reflection peered back at her. It was as if she spoke to someone else - but only if that someone else wore her face.

Which, as it turned out, that someone else _had, _centuries ago.

"You had the power to summon my soul, to create a body to house it, to make that body magical, and then to create a history and a place for me in this strange world." Vesper's eyes never left her reflection as she spoke. "You could have taken any soul, from seemingly any of untold millions of worlds, and you chose me."

_I chose you, _came the quiet whisper.

"A disgraced Liaison Officer, a literal traitor, and a thief." Vesper said, bitterly. "The best thing I did in that world was die, and you bloody well know it."

The voice, wisely, said nothing. Even a year after her resurrection, Vesper had a lot of baggage from her former life.

"What I want to know, My Lady, is _WHY?_" Vesper hissed, barely a whisper.

_You want to know why you? _Even as the voice spoke, colors swirled across the glass, changing and warping the reflection. Vesper saw her reflection change, as the background of the compartment faded into stone and shadow.

_This is why, Vesper Lynd. This is why you were my chosen, the one I trusted to help save the realm and the world. _

Vesper gasped as her reflection's shape became clear. It was her face, her reserved sneer, her standoffishness. Every mannerism she had cultivated over the years was mirrored in that icy glare. Her dark hair, longer than Vesper's own, was coiled in an intricate hairstyle, contained within a delicate circlet of gold. Her dress was a piece of finery she would never consent to wear, but in the reflection it gleamed with gold and silver - a costume fit for a queen.

_You were chosen because centuries ago, I WAS YOU. _

"Morgana," whispered Vesper, as her hand reached forward to touch the glass.

The reflection nodded, even as its hand mirrored her own.

_Yes, Vesper. _Whispered her Lady's gentle voice. _Say my name. _

Vesper's voice was barely audible as she stared at the glass in wonder.

"Morgana le Fay."

oOoOoOoOo

When Eve returned, she had even more questions for the older girl. Vesper could not help but enjoy the interrogation, even as she wished she had had someone to share her own experience with when she woke up the previous year.

She did not count the voice of the most powerful (and, for many, the most _dreaded_) witch in history. Vesper had known who her mysterious benefactor had been, but to see it with her own eyes was something else entirely. Part of her resented that it had taken a year to get to that point, but there was nothing for it.

After a while, Eve ran out of questions, and Vesper decided to make her own trip to the facilities. When she left the compartment, she came face to face with the blonde sixth year from earlier. Before she could remember the girl's name, Lady le Fay was feeding it to her mind, and Vesper nodded to her housemate.

"Miss Brontzos," Vesper said politely.

Clarissa Brontzos stared at her for just a moment, a flicker of recognition in her eye. "Miss Lynd," she replied. Then she stepped to the side and allowed Vesper to pass by, on her way to the next car and the facilities there.

Her golden eyes followed the second year as she departed. "There's something about that girl," muttered Clarissa. Before she could say anything further, she caught her reflection in a window. "See, _this _is why I prefer being a gnome." With a wave of her hand, her long blonde hair adjusted its length and rearranged itself into a much shorter style.

With a happy nod, Clarissa Brontzos - or, as she was more commonly known, Cromie of the Bronze Dragonflight, walked back to her compartment, whistling as she went.

oOoOoOoOo

In the next compartment, two pairs of brown eyes watched the exchange. The dark-skinned boys shared a look, and then slid the door to their compartment closed.

It had been an uncomfortable ride for both of them, having nothing in common save for their race. But seeing the brief tension in the hallway, and then… well, _whatever that was _that the blonde girl did, had shaken something loose.

The shorter of the two spoke first. "Nick, my lad, I think we're in a right bit of Barney."

The taller boy stared at his companion, muscles in his jaw working as if he were fighting the impulse to respond.

The shorter boy, off the stare he was getting, explained himself. "...Rubble."

That got an exasperated look from the other boy, so he sighed. "Trouble!"

The other boy replied with a sigh of his own. In his deep American accent - far too deep for a normal eleven year old - the boy said the only thing he knew to be certain, at that moment.

"Basher," he intoned, his voice deceptively calm. "I have no idea what the FUCK you just said."

oOoOoOoOo

"MONEYPENNY, EVELYN!"

The Deputy Headmistress already sounded exhausted when she got to Eve's name - and, to Eve's surprise, the Sorting Hat itself sounded tired as well.

When the Hat's voice began to speak, it startled Eve. Vesper had included the sorting in her brief, of course, but being told that a hat will speak to your mind is a far cry from the act itself.

_Ah, Miss Moneypenny, _the Hat said. _At least you are being reasonable about the whole thing. Good. _

Eve pictured herself shrugging. _Queen and Country, Mister Hat. _

_Oh, of course, Miss Lynd said much the same as I recall - and as I can see she told you. _

That gave Eve pause. _Is this not confidential, then? She said you couldn't reveal secrets. _

_Oh, you mistake me, my dear, _reassured the Hat. _I can't reveal what she said - but I can see that she told you what she said. It is to that that I refer. _Eve felt the hat chuckle in amusement. _A sharp mind, Miss Moneypenny, catching that detail._

_...Thank you? _

_No, my dear, thank you. Now, off you go to _

"_RAVENCLAW!" _

Eve stood and handed the hat back to the Deputy Headmistress - a stern woman who reminded Eve of M, for some reason. Then she made her way over to the Ravenclaw table, where she took a seat between Vesper and a smaller boy by the name of Lee who had been sorted early in the evening.

As the sorting continued, she looked about the room, watching her yearmates as they went to their houses. Soon, the mission would begin in earnest. For now, she could relax a little and gather intelligence. As Lily Moon was sorted, she clapped along with her housemates.

There was no hurry. Not yet.

* * *

_**A/N: **_**I'm working my way back into more regular output, such as it is, after a winter of job shuffles with by beta and illnesses in my family. I can't exactly flag stories "Busy as hell y'all", but I see the comments begging me not to abandon stories - and rest assured, I won't. As the regulars on Discord know, I've got ideas for days and just enough of my next chapters done to keep hammering away. **

**This isn't any of that. Rather, I decided to throw a few thousand words in a completely different direction, as a change of pace. To my surprise, a chapter introducing Vesper Lynd (from the Bond films and novels) ended up bringing in five new characters and turning this from a series of one shots into something more. Chromie, when she finds out that she's not the only being tinkering with this universe, will be annoyed. **

**As will Lady Morgana, I believe. When I learned that Eva Green played both Vesper Lynd (tightly controlled, but flawed) and Morgan in Camelot (Utterly batshit), then tying those two characters together made perfect sense. Morgana le Fay brings Vesper and Moneypenny, using their sense of duty to get them on the team. **

**As for Nick Fury? Samuel L was always a given, and we'll see his sorting later. Basher Tarr (Don Cheadle from the wonderful Ocean's Eleven) snuck in at the last second, because I needed someone British to play off of Nick. Both should be fun. **

**Any guesses for Lee? Bet no one gets it. You might even get the name right and have the wrong character. **

**Feedback, as always, is welcome. **


	3. Hari Seldon (Foundation) & Leto Atreides

"Albus, we may have a problem."

Albus Dumbledore looked up from his desk to see his Deputy Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall. The professor had been his trusted colleague for several decades, and he was confident that Hogwarts would barely run without her steady hand.

Which made the troubled look on her face that much more worrying.

"What's wrong, Minerva?" the Headmaster asked.

She held up the scroll with the names of the first years. It was the same parchment she would read from at that evening's sorting ceremony. To Albus' eye, it seemed normal.

"The sorting list was on my desk, Albus." She almost brandished the parchment at him. "It seems that sometime in the last two hours, the list of incoming students grew significantly."

"There are always late additions, Minerva," Albus said, in his best reassuring voice. "There were thirty-eight students when we held yesterday's staff meeting, as I recall. How many are there now?" Perhaps one or two of the students who had declined to attend had changed their minds? It was known to happen once in a while.

Again, the Deputy Headmistress held up the parchment. "The Hogwarts Class of 1998 now has eighty-two students, Albus!"

Shocked, Dumbledore sat back in his chair. _Eighty-Two? _

"Oh, dear…" he sighed.

oOoOoOoOo

Duke Leto Atreides had no illusions about death. His last thoughts were about Jessica and Paul, not about what might wait for him. He had known, even before the Baron began his gloating, that he was a dead man. All he could do, all he could hope for, was to strike back before it was too late.

Jessica and Paul were out of his hands, now. There was no longer anything he could do to help them.

And damn everything if that thought didn't infuriate him.

As the poison filled his mouth, he heard a shriek of pain, and knew he had been successful. Someone - either the Baron Harkonnen himself or Piter de Vries, that vile, twisted mentat of his, had died horribly. It was all he could do, and he was satisfied with the result.

Hours later, when the poisonous gas had dissipated, no one would be able to explain why the Duke's body had an odd smile.

oOoOoOoOo

To Leto, the surprising thing about death was that it felt like he was moving. There was vibration underneath him, almost like a poorly adjusted 'thopter, but the lack of motion sideways told him that he was still on the surface. A groundcar, perhaps?

Leto opened his eyes, and saw sunlight streaming into a window. Sitting up, he leaned forward, hoping to get an idea of where he had been taken. Already, his instincts were screaming at him, for the light he saw was far too bright for the harsh, reddish sun that scorched Arrakis.

Then he saw the view, and everything stopped.

Grassy fields, as far as he could see. Trees, perhaps a river in the distance. Signs of civilization, but nothing familiar. Certainly, no desert.

Wherever he was, it wasn't the desert planet of Arrakis.

He placed a hand on the glass, getting as close as he could, in hopes of getting a glimpse of the vehicle in which he found himself. The sight of his hand startled him almost as much as the landscape - for it was a child's hand.

Leto stared at it in wonder. It was definitely _his _hand, for he could identify two scars he would have had as a young boy. He could not see a third, though, one he had gotten from a bull in the stables, helping his father prepare for his next opponent in the bullfighting rings of Caladan. If he was right, it placed him in what had to be his ten or eleven year old body.

"Where am I?" Leto whispered to himself.

"Earth," was the unexpected reply. Leto spun around, and found another boy sitting across from him.

The boy was wearing simple clothes - trousers, a white shirt with long sleeves, and some sort of black robe thrown over his shoulders. He had a thick book in his lap, and a stack of additional books beside him on the bench in whatever compartment this was. His glasses combined with his overall manner of aloof disinterest to complete the picture in Leto's mind - the boy had all the markings of a scholar or scientist, perhaps even a mentat in training.

The other boy closed his book and carefully set it aside. Then he folded his hands in his lap, and sat still. It was obvious to Leto that the move was intended to be non-threatening, which meant that the boy could tell how agitated the Duke had become. Unconsciously, Leto's evaluation of the boy went up another notch.

But for all that, the boy's answer was nonsensical.

"It's not possible for us to be on Earth," Leto said, as calmly as he could.

The boy nodded. "True. And yet, here we are." He gestured out the window. "There are many beautiful worlds in the galaxy, but none seem to compare to the green hills of Earth." His eyes lingered for a moment on the landscape, and Leto heard the boy sigh before he continued speaking. "I never really expected to see it, you know. Not with my own eyes."

"Earth is a radioactive wasteland," Leto said, not knowing how else to respond. "Even the navigators have been unable to find its location for millenia."

"Interesting," the boy replied. "Much like my own home, it seems. We even lost track of its location as well, though that was deliberate, I learned later."

Leto took a deep breath, fighting to keep himself calm. Before he could respond, the boy had leaned forward.

"What's the last thing you remember, before waking here?" he asked.

"I died!" Leto spat in reply. "I was captured by my enemies, and held on long enough to learn that my son and my... his mother had escaped. Then I opened a small canister of poison hidden in a tooth, and took one of my captors with me." Even now, even in this outrageous situation, the regret bit back at him hard. _I should have married you, Jessica, _he lamented.

"That fits," the boy said, thoughtfully. "Your son, then. Was he named Paul?"

"You _do _know of me?" Leto asked.

The boy shook his head. "No, you kept saying two names in your sleep. Paul, and Jessica."

Leto sat back in his seat. "Yes. My son, and… well, honestly, the woman who should have been my duchess."

"Duchess?" asked the boy, with a raised eyebrow.

Leto nodded. "I am… or, rather, _was_, Duke Leto Atreides, Head of House Atreides, one of the great houses of the Landsraad Council."

"I see," said the boy. "Fascinating. You really are from another universe."

"What the hell does that mean?" Leto growled. "Who are you, then?"

The boy smiled calmly at him. "I am Hari Seldon."

oOoOoOoOo

The boy in front of him - Hari, he had called himself - had been a scholar. His work placed him at the core of the galactic empire, but one far different from the Imperium Leto had known. Hari had seen the signs of decline in his Empire, and tried to stave off disaster. He even served as the top aide to the Emperor at one point, a thing unheard of in Leto's mind.

Eventually, his project had been established at the far end of the galaxy, and Hari Seldon had died peacefully, his work set in motion.

Leto noticed that Hari very carefully did not mention his family, and so the topic was avoided. Instead, Leto listened patiently as Hari explained his experience in this new world, with the fervor only a scientist could replicate.

"I think whatever happened to you, happened to me as well," Hari explained. "Except that I woke up almost a month ago in an inn. This culture, the one you and I are entering, is more of an enclave of sorts. It keeps itself hidden from outsiders, but the hiding is almost in plain sight at times. For example, the inn I stayed in has doors that go from one world to the other."

"And what world is this, exactly?" Leto asked.

Hari grinned. "It seems that whatever force brought us here has a sense of humor, Leto. I was a man of pure science, and I believe you were a military man, the governor of a planet, yes?" Off Leto's nod, Hari continued. "Well, it seems that we're about as far from our old lives as we could be."

With a flourish, Hari pulled a stick from his sleeve. Muttering an incantation, the boy waved the stick at his stack of books. To Leto's astonishment, the books began to levitate around the compartment.

"No suspensors, no antigravs," said Leto, as he watched the display. "No hidden strings, no means of support… It's almost like magic."

Hari's sharp laugh drew Leto's eyes to his companion.

"Sorry, sorry," Hari said, waving the books back to their place. "I'm sorry, I thought it'd take you longer to guess."

"Guess? What, you mean that was magic?"

Hari nodded. "You're a wizard, Duke Leto Atreides." He reached into his robe, and pulled out a letter. "Check your pockets, you'll have a letter like this one."

Leto realized that he was wearing clothing similar to Hari's - simple trousers, shirt, and what seemed to be some sort of robe. In one of the interior pockets of the robe, Leto found three sheets of yellowed paper.

"Mister Callaway," Leto read. "We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed…" Leto's voice trailed off as he read the letter, and the attached supply list.

"I suspect you will have whatever you need in that trunk," Hari said, pointing at one of the large trunks in the luggage rack. "Whatever force brought us here, it would not have called attention to you by sending you to Hogwarts unprepared."

"No, I suppose not," Leto agreed. It was then that the third piece of paper caught his attention. The text was in a far different style than the letter, and its contents raised more questions than they answered.

"Ah," Hari said, when he saw the document. "That is convenient. They included an inheritance test."

"Lee Atreides," Let read. "Born Leto Atreides, and Heir to the Minor House of Atreides," he frowned, looking up. "Minor house?"

Hari chuckled. "The long-standing houses in magical society generally rank themselves on how long they have been active, among other things. I suspect that it was impossible to create a longer history for your family here."

"Perhaps," Leto said, as he continued reading. "They even have my parents' names, my grandparents. All listed as deceased, but still." His eyes travelled down the page, narrowing when he did not find the name he had been clearly searching for.

"You're eleven years old," Hari said, gently. "Your son would not have come back with you, and if he had, he wouldn't be your son."

"Paul was a gifted lad," Leto answered, surprised at the defensive tone in his voice.

"I have no doubt," Hari replied. "And perhaps you will see him again someday. But not today, alas." Hari gave Leto his most reassuring smile. "Tomorrow doesn't look good for it, either."

Leto nodded, unwilling to say more about his missing son. Instead, his eyes caught a note at the bottom of the test. Off Hari's look, Leto read the note aloud.

"Heir Atreides shares the legal name of his mother, and will do so until he ascends to become Head of House. Thus, for the purposes of Gringotts' and Hogwarts business, Heir Atreides is known as Lee Callaway, in honor of his family's birthplace."

"Birthplace?" Hari asked. He watched as Leto sat back in his seat, smiling.

"Caladan," he replied. "To many, it was a small, backwater world with too much water and not enough industry. But to me, it was home."

oOoOoOoOo

"So," Leto said, as the train came to a stop in a small village. "What happens now?"

Hari stood, stretching out to work the kinks out from the long journey. "Now, we are sorted into a house, one of four groups within the school. And then, we learn about magic."

"Oh, to be a kid again," Leto muttered. But the idea had grown on him, as he thought about it. No real responsibilities to anyone but himself, just the opportunity to learn and enjoy a childhood no Duke's son would ever have imagined.

He had loved the life he led, even with the heartbreak and tragedy that came with the intrigues common in the Imperium. He would not have traded it in for anything. That didn't mean he couldn't enjoy this second chance, though.

"Besides," Hari continued as he put his books into a satchel. "Finding the answers isn't half as rewarding as figuring out what questions to ask." He looked up at his new friend with a grin. "Leto, I spent my life trying to predict the life of an empire containing trillions of souls. Doing the same thing with a small magical enclave numbering in the tens of thousands should be easy."

Leto could not help but laugh at Hari's enthusiasm. "It sounds like Ravenclaw for the two of us, then," he said.

"For me, absolutely," agreed Hari. "But why you?"

Leto put a hand on Hari's shoulder. "Because you sound like the sort to get into trouble as you seek your answers," he said. "Someone's got to keep an eye on you."

oOoOoOoOo

In his focus on helping Leto come to terms with the situation, Hari Seldon realized that he had not quite been forthcoming about his own "history", so to speak. Just like Leto, or Lee as he would have to start thinking of him, Hari had been given a history in this world as well.

Hari and Leto stood near the front of the large group of first years. Leto knew that he would be going relatively early in the order, since the Deputy Headmistress seemed to be going alphabetically. The pair watched a girl with bright red hair be sorted into Hufflepuff, only to be surprised by the next name on the list.

"BINNS-SELDON, HARI!"

Leto looked over at Hari, and saw the surprise on his face. Gently, he elbowed his new friend, and the gesture seemed to be all that was needed. Hari began walking forward, as Leto chuckled.

_All that knowledge, _Leto thought, _and he forgets his name. _Whatever else happened, knowing Hari Seldon would not be dull.

Once the hat was on his head, Hari heard a voice speaking to him.

_My word, _the hat said. _I didn't know that the professor had any family out there. _

_He might not, _Hari replied. _But it's a long story. _

_So I see, _said the hat, in a weary tone. _Well, you will need to meet with Professor Binns when you get the chance, Mister Seldon._

_Of course, _Hari agreed. Hari did not realize that he had any living family in this world, and was interested in finding out what connection might exist. At the very least, he'd have someone who lived in this world to offer guidance, which could prove useful.

_As for the rest, this will surprise you not at all. But would there be any other option for Raven Seldon than_

"RAVENCLAW!" The hat, as seemed to be tradition, shouted the last word, and the hall politely applauded. Hari stood and walked over to the blue-trimmed table, taking a seat near the end.

oOoOoOoOo

It was not long before Leto heard his own name called.

"CALLAWAY, LEE!"

_Buggering hell, _muttered the hat's voice in Leto's ear.

_Not exactly what I was expecting, _mused Leto.

_You should bloody well see it from my side, then! _The hat was clearly growing annoyed at something, though Leto couldn't imagine what.

_Your secrets are safe with me, Duke Leto, _the hat continued. _As are your new friend's. Quite an unlikely pair you make. _

_I had a bit of luck, _Leto replied. _The first person I met seems to be smart enough to figure out what is happening, which makes him a good resource. _

_This is not your Imperium, Mister Callaway, you need not speak in polite half-truths with me. I can see where your loyalty lies, at the moment, and that would serve you well in Hufflepuff. But I also see the wisdom behind those tired eyes, and I know where you'll have the most success. _

_I see, _said Leto, unsure how else to respond.

Clearly, the hat had said its peace, for the next words were spoken aloud.

"RAVENCLAW!"

When he had sat down on the stool, in front of hundreds of children, he had been Duke Leto Atreides. Now, thinking about the hat's words, he nodded to himself. _Best to do the thing properly, _he thought to himself.

It was Lee Callaway who handed the hat back to the Deputy Headmistress. It was Lee Callaway who sat down at the blue-trimmed table, across from his new friend, Hari Binns-Seldon.

Grinning, he stuck out a hand. "Lee Callaway, nice to meet you."

Hari looked sheepish, and shook the offered hand. "Hari Binns-Seldon, at your service.

"Are you sure?" Lee asked, teasingly.

"You know, in our long conversation, I realized that certain details may have slipped my mind," admitted Hari.

Both boys laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation, which got a few looks from their fellow Ravenclaws. The boys ignored it, chatting quietly between sortings.

Other first years began to sit down nearby, including a young girl named Eve. Lee introduced himself, and then Hari did the same. As Hari and Eve were talking, Lee's eyes wandered over to the still unsorted students.

It was a set of grey eyes that caught Lee's attention. He had seen those eyes before. Frowning, Lee focused on the boy, standing near the edge of the group. The boy's mannerisms were all wrong, there was no hint of nervousness, no attempt to mingle with his yearmates. Those grey eyes were moving rapidly, but subtly - something he had definitely seen before.

_Why is this so familiar? _Lee asked himself. Then he recalled an old Master of Assassins doing the same thing, and his eyes grew wide.

The boy was gathering data about his surroundings - just like a mentat would.

"PETERSON, JAMES!"

The next name on the list was called, and the grey-eyed boy walked confidently forward.

As the boy walked up to the stool, Lee got a closer look. Unkempt eyebrows, dark brown hair barely contained in a ponytail, skin slightly paler than the norm.

Lee had indeed seen that boy before. Far more recently than he would like.

"What's wrong?"

Lee looked to his left, and saw that Hari had moved around the table to sit next to him. The look on Hari's face told Lee that the boy had noticed his concern. That made denying it useless, so instead Lee nodded toward the sorting hat, which was just getting ready to shout.

"SLYTHERIN!"

"That boy, James Peterson," said Lee. "His real name was Piter de Vries."

Hari nodded. "I take it you know him?"

Lee nodded, as James Peterson took his seat at the green table. "I'm pretty sure I killed him, just before I woke up on the train."

* * *

**_A/N: _I'm enjoying fleshing out some of the background intrigue in this year's Hogwarts class. Some characters are necessarily going to be drawn to each other, and others will have history to contend with. It starts with me asking the Discords for the most outlandish characters to include, and then figuring out story to go along with it. **

**Leto Atreides is the correct answer for our boy Lee - but even then, I wasn't certain which Leto would show up. Duke Leto, father of Paul? Leto II, the baby slain almost as an afterthought in the original Dune novel, for reasons? The other Leto II, the God Emperor? Any of the three could have had a compelling story, but in the end Duke Leto seemed to be the best fit for Hari Seldon.**

**Speaking of which - the Foundation saga is one of the core works in American Science Fiction, and a must read. Isaac Asimov had a very particular style, in that much of the action in his stories consisted of people talking to each other and reasoning things out. Of all his characters, Hari Seldon was perhaps the closest to an author avatar, and in that light there is no chance whatsoever that he doesn't go to Ravenclaw. I hope I captured some of his essence here, and in chapters to come. Needless to say, he's one of my favorites. **

**The in-universe names these characters are getting may matter, in some cases. Alexstrasza the Life-Binder becomes Alexstrasza Binder, for example. Here, someone on Discord suggested a relative of Professor Binns - and who better to be related to the History Professor than the founder of Psychohistory? As for Leto, I just wanted something plausible to match up with his homeworld, Caladan. Does the name James Peterson matter for the sinister Piter de Vries? I dunno, perhaps we'll find out. **

**Feedback, as always, is welcome. **


	4. Gandalf (LotR) and Loki (MCU)

Gandalf was falling.

At first, he had expected a long fall, but one with an end in the depths of the chasm below. The Mines of Moria had indeed been dug far too deep, but not _that _deep. So, when he and the Balrog began to topple from the old stone bridge, Gandalf focused on making sure the Balrog landed first. The impact would stun the creature, and Gandalf could (hopefully) land a fatal strike with Glamdring, his enchanted blade.

Alas, his magic fought that of the Balrog, even as they fell. The combination, fire against fire, rage against rage, tore a hole in reality.

And so, they fell. And fell. And fell.

Gandalf landed his strike, a hacking blow to the creature's neck. He used a burst of wind to angle himself away, before turning for another blow. Coming from just below the creature, this second strike was decisive, and the balrog's head flew away from its body, its cries of pain dying as the embers cooled. The blackened corpse fell away, into the darkness.

Gandalf continued on his journey. He did not know how long he fell. It was longer than an hour, but not quite a day, or so he hoped.

He had not stopped falling before he lost consciousness. As he faded, he thought he heard the voices of the Valar, echoing in his mind. And then, he knew nothing.

oOoOoOoOo

Loki was falling.

The rainbow light of the Bifrost had been… _wrong_, somehow. It was dulled in places, not as brilliant as it always had been. With no one to direct it, who knows where he would land?

Or, even if he would land at all?

He remembered dying. He remembered those crushing purple hands, the blinding pain. He remembered his desperate attempt to harness his magic to preserve a life already departed.

Loki closed his eyes against the brightness, but could not escape the afterimage of his father.

Yes, his _father._

Odin had tried to save him. Even after everything he had done, everything he had said, Odin had extended a hand to him, at the end.

_I'll never figure that out, _Loki thought. _No matter how long I try. _

Fortunately for him, time was something he had plenty of, if his current situation was any indication.

_I should have landed by now, _he thought. _Even the farthest realms are not so far, by the Bifrost. _

The rainbow light played against his eyes, even if he tried to keep them shut. The patterns, the brightness, all combined to lull him into unconsciousness.

As he faded, he thought he heard a deep voice speaking to him, but he could not make out the words. And then, he knew nothing.

oOoOoOoOo

_Annoyance. _"This is not what we agreed to, Valar."

_Amusement. _"No, it is not. But it is what is necessary."

_Exasperation. _"There are infinite universes available to you. Choose another."

_Declaration. _"We have chosen this one."

_Caveat. _"As have others. Already the tapestry grows thick with change."

_Observation. _"Then what is one more thread?"

_Disbelief. _"That is not how this works."

_Disappointment. _"You call yourselves Eternals, yet you forget that you do not know all there is to know."

_Derision. _"And the Valar do? We find that… improbable."

_Analysis. _"What we know is that your so-called God of Lies needs to learn how to live his own truth, whatever that may be."

_Concession. _"True. While your own has forgotten that the lives he guides have meaning of their own."

_Agreement. _"Just so."

_Prediction_. "So, they will walk the path together, each guiding the other. The sum is greater than the parts."

_Aspiration. _"If the fates will it."

_Amusement. _"We do."

oOoOoOoOo

Loki's eyes snapped open as the train began to move.

Rising from the cushioned seat, he moved to the window, and saw parents wearing robes waving to the train as it departed. He noticed that he, too, was wearing black robes over a white shirt and trousers.

His clothing was not as startling as his form, staring back at him from his reflection in the glass. It had been a very long time since he looked like a child. Centuries, maybe more.

He felt the magic of the world, the undercurrents of power flowing through the ley lines beneath the surface. With a gasp, he realized how familiar they felt.

This was Midgard.

How did he find himself here, of all places? The destroyed Bifrost could not have sent him here without an impossible amount of luck. Even then, he had fallen much too long to have landed in any world known. This had to be an illusion.

Gently, he reached out with his magic, seeking to break the illusion, but nothing happened. The only thing he sensed was a stick in his robe pocket. Pulling it out, he found a greenish-grey wood carved with an intricate handle. It seemed to focus his magic, in a manner he had not needed in centuries.

Then again, if he was truly a child once more, a focus would come in handy.

He sat back down, letting the rhythmic movement of the train calm him. Closing his eyes, he thought back to the voices he had heard as he fell. The ones called the Valar were unknown to him, but the Eternals had a long history in the chronicles of Asgard. Could it truly be that they had sent him here?

And what of this other? Who were they? Apart from Thor, Loki had never been one to do well with allies. He had always stood apart, even before he realized why.

At that thought, Loki once again looked down at his child's hands. Concentrating, he willed himself to shift into his true form, his Frost Giant form so feared by his people.

No, by his _adoptive _people.

He had only felt the barest beginnings of the change, the shift in temperature across his skin, when the door to the compartment opened. Startled, Loki looked to the doorway, sliding his hand into the pocket of his robes.

The boy in the doorway wore the same robes, which suggested to Loki that they were a uniform of some sort. His white hair was cut short and neat, though the boy was running a hand through it as if unused to the length. His grey eyes scanned the compartment, as if looking for someone.

When he saw Loki, he grinned. In that moment, his eyes sparkled slightly, and Loki felt an immense presence enter the compartment. The magic was ancient, with a flavour that contrasted sharply against the magic Loki normally associated with Midgard.

It left only one conclusion - this was the "other" he had heard of as he fell.

"You're late," Loki said, wondering what reaction he'd get from the newcomer.

The white-haired boy chuckled, as if at a private joke.

"You will find that a wizard is never late, Loki Odinson," he said. "Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to."

"Of course he does," Loki said. He realized, belatedly, that he knew nothing of this boy - but the boy seemed to know about him. _That won't do, _he thought. "And you are?"

The other boy paused, and frowned. "You know, I'm not actually sure." He waved a hand, causing his trunk to float up into an overhead luggage rack, taking its place next to another trunk with _L.O. _engraved in gold against green. That done, the boy sat across from Loki and reached into his robes.

The letter he produced seemed to explain everything, and the boy's face lit up.

"My name is Gandalf Greyhame, apparently," he said, happily.

Loki chuckled at the boy's enthusiasm. "Not what you expected?"

Gandalf shrugged. "I've had many names in my time, but my fondest memories are of my time as Gandalf. It also happens to be the name I've used most recently."

"Good fortune, that," Loki remarked.

"So it would seem," Gandalf agreed. He nodded toward Loki. "What did your letter tell you?"

Loki frowned, before checking his own pockets. Sure enough, he had a similar letter.

"Lucian Odinson," Loki read. "We are pleased to inform you…" his voice trailed off as the meaning of the letter registered. "A school of wizardry?"

Gandalf nodded. "They teach a form of magic far different from my own. And, I suspect, from yours as well." He sat back on the bench, watching Loki's reaction. "We have, each of us, been given a fresh start."

Loki considered the letter, while echoes of a conversation filtered through his mind. "So, the Valar are from your world, then?"

Gandalf's face grew serious. "Just as the Eternals they spoke of come from your realm."

"Oh, yes," agreed Loki. "This isn't exactly their usual interference, though."

"You are the God of Lies, Loki Odinson," Gandalf intoned. "From what I heard, they thought you needed to spend some time living your life, unfettered by Asgard, Jotenheim, and the concerns of the nine realms." He smiled warmly, an expression he was clearly used to - but one that looked odd on a child's face.

"He needs to live his own truth…" Loki whispered.

A nod. "I'm surprised you understood. The Valar are not often given to making themselves understood to lesser beings."

Loki smirked. "I am no lesser being."

Gandalf chuckled, but said nothing. Idly, the white-haired boy checked his pockets, as if looking for something.

"So," continued Loki. "Why did the Valar, or whoever they are, send you here? What's your story, Gandalf Greyhame?"

"Oh," Gandalf said, "I doubt you'd find it very interesting."

"Clearly," Loki mused. "Which is why I asked, of course."

Gandalf sighed. "Fine, if you must know. My order was sent into the world to aid the races of our world against the Dark Lord Sauron. For two-thousand years, I wandered from one end of the world to the other, advising kings and teaching generals."

"You must have seen some success, or else you would have failed long ago," Loki observed.

"The enemy is patient," Gandalf said quietly. "He could afford to wait thousands of years to seal his victory. We, on the other hand, could fail but once."

Loki nodded at that. "I take it that your luck ran out?"

Another nod. "I let myself be driven onto a path from which there was no return. My companions survived, but I…. I fell."

Loki absorbed the tale, and frowned. "So, what truth are you here to learn, then?" Off Gandalf's expression, Loki continued. "I mean, if I'm here to live my best life, 'unfettered', as you say, then why are you here?"

Gandalf had the grace to look embarrassed. "In all my years among the people of the world, I appeared to be their elder. Before long, I acted like it." He shrugged. "The Valar believe that I lost my sense of wonder at the world, and so I am to look at a new world through new eyes." He gestured at his eleven-year-old form. "They didn't say those new eyes would be so low to the ground."

Loki nodded, a serious expression on his face, before his eyes caught Gandalf's. Then the moment broke, and both of these ancient boys laughed themselves sick at the ridiculous situation in which they found themselves.

oOoOoOoOo

When the train arrived, the first years were herded over to a small boat dock. There, a giant of a man directed them to get into the boats, four at a time. When he saw the sheer number of firsties, he seemed to panic, as he didn't think they would all fit.

Fortunately, an older man - Finch, or something similar - was waiting with additional boats, just in time.

Gandalf and Loki climbed into a boat in the middle of the group, and were joined by two girls. The taller of the two, a dark-skinned witch with her hair held in a neat ponytail, introduced herself as Beckett. Her friend, a shorter, paler girl with black hair, was named Ellen. Once the boats got moving, both witches were content to take in the scenery around the Black Lake.

Gandalf and Loki had both seen grander castles than Hogwarts. The White City alone would put almost anything in Wizarding Britain to shame. And as for the Golden Palace of Asgard? There were few sights, anywhere, that could possibly compare. But for all that, when the boats rounded the edge of the lake, and the castle came into view, every one of the first years saw one of the most magnificent sights of their lives - however long those lives might have been. The two ancient wizards were no exception.

Loki's ears perked up when Beckett asked Ellen if she was sure that they were actually on Earth. Ellen responded with a roll of her eyes.

Once the boats reached another dock, the first years disembarked. The half-giant (Hagrid, Loki had been told) found a toad in one of the boats, and returned it to a grateful boy near the front of the group. With that, the group began walking up a long staircase, into the castle itself.

Near the back of the group, two dark-skinned boys nervously eyed the group in front of them. Basher Tarr was completely out of his element, though meeting Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan had helped calm him down. Both seemed like good people to know, and some of Seamus' comments made Basher think that they shared a love of explosives. He had gotten only hints about the sorting, but knew that he'd want to find himself wherever they landed.

He already knew that he'd be in a different house from his travelling companion, the enigmatic American named Nick. That didn't bother him, though - the other boy had agreed that they'd stay on good terms, whatever house they ended up in. For his part, Nick was sure he'd be in Slytherin. He kept too many secrets, apparently.

Now, however, his thoughts were an open book. Basher glanced over, and saw the taller boy glaring at someone ahead of them.

"Motherfucker," said Nick Fury. "What the hell is he doing here?"

oOoOoOoOo

Professor McGonagall had a speech prepared, as she always did. This year, however, she was hard pressed to keep the oversized group of first years under control. After a few abortive attempts, she gave up, simply telling the first years to smarten themselves up. She did tell one boy to remove his sunglasses, and another to fix his robes, before leaving.

Loki did not pay attention. As soon as the group came to a halt, he felt a firm hand on his elbow.

"What the fuck are you playing at, Loki?" snarled a very angry Nick Fury.

Loki blinked as he looked at the last person he'd ever have expected to find _here. _Then he grinned.

"Ah, Director Fury," he said, pitching his voice so that only he, Gandalf, and Fury could hear. Gandalf glanced over, but did not interfere. "I see fate played a trick on you as well."

"Yeah, fate got tricky on me, and then I find your stupid ass standing here grinning at me." He stepped closer. "So what did you do, Mister God of Tricks?"

"Me?" Loki said, innocently. "Nothing at all."

Nick Fury's voice was almost a growl, now. "Fix it."

"This is beyond his power, Mister Fury," Gandalf said, leaning toward the pair, hoping to defuse their fight. "I take it you know each other, then?"

Nick turned his eyes to the white-haired boy, before inclining his head toward Loki. "Mister God of Lies here led an invasion of my world, killing thousands. He threatened to turn my planet into his own little kingdom."

Gandalf turned toward Loki, one eyebrow raised. Loki shrugged.

"I got better," he said, weakly.

"Do you have any armies laying about that we need to worry about, Mister Odinson?" Gandalf asked, formally.

"Not at the moment, no," replied Loki.

"Good." Gandalf turned back to Nick. "Then perhaps we should take this as the fresh start it seems to be, and go from there, yes?"

Before Nick could respond, Loki nodded toward Gandalf. "I'm sure Gandalf, here, will keep an eye on me."

Nick's eyes narrowed. "I'm sure we both will."

Loki paled. "I don't really think that's necessary, Fury," he stammered.

Nick Fury grinned at him. "We'll see. I seem to recall an old family saying, how does it go?" He looked thoughtful for a moment, before gesturing at Loki. "Ah, yes," he continued. "Ant." Then he raised his wand. "Boot."

oOoOoOoOo

Not long after Fury, Nicholas was sent to Slytherin, the Deputy Headmistress reached Gandalf.

"GREYHAME, GANDALF!"

Once seated, Gandalf felt the hat probing his memories. When a minute passed, and the hat's only words were idle mutterings, Gandalf decided to start the discussion.

_Mister Hat, are you well?_

_You have thousands of years of memories, Mithrandir, and you expect quick work from a hat? Be patient, lad._

_Of course I have thousands of years of memories, _thought Gandalf. _I was an immortal servant of the Valar. _

_Oh, please, _scoffed the hat. _You're not even the first immortal I've sorted this evening. _

That shocked Gandalf into silence. Clearly, he didn't know as much as he'd like about his situation.

_You are not alone, in that, _answered the hat. _But you'll learn as you go. And for that, it'll have to be_

"RAVENCLAW!"

oOoOoOoOo

"ODINSON, LUCIAN!"

The hat was barely on Loki's head before he heard a voice muttering to itself.

_So, _it said. _You're the one young Mister Fury was worried about. _

Loki sighed. _We have some history, in our original universe._

The hat was silent for a moment, as it considered that.

_You know, _said the hat, _this is the strangest sorting I've ever experienced. And I've been doing this since the beginning. _

_I can imagine, _replied Loki, drily.

_Well, I could put you with your friend, but we both know that there's only one house for the God of Lies, _said the hat.

Before Loki could comment, the hat was shouting for all to hear.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Loki made his way over to the table on one side of the room, trimmed in green and silver. _At least they have good taste, _he thought. His eyes fell on a grinning Nick Fury, who gestured toward an empty seat beside him.

With another sigh, Loki sat down next to the American.

"Oh, don't look so put upon, Odinson," Nick smirked. "I'm sure we'll get along just fine." He reached over and grabbed a pitcher. "Want some pumpkin juice?"

_I wonder if the Eternals might change their mind? _Loki wondered to himself.

* * *

**_A/N:_ Thank you specifically to Razeus1 for the suggestion of Loki and Gandalf. I'm trying to pair characters, and I think these two could have quite a bit to teach each other. Gandalf, at the end of his mortal life here, would of course return to Middle Earth, a bit humbler and quite a bit wiser, ready to take up the white and march into battle once more. Loki... well, who knows? This Loki, with nothing to lose, may make a good go of things, and truly come to understand the meaning of friendship, or something along those lines. Maybe.**

**As for Nick Fury - Well, can you think of anyone less magical from the Marvel Universe? Of course he and Basher will stay in touch, even though Basher will end up in Gryffindor. The two bonded on the train, neither one having the foggiest idea what the hell is going on. I expect lots of friendships across house divides, in this universe. **

**Beckett has a very distinct name, and should be easy to guess. Ellen, less so. Both will have their chapters before long, and both are probably more out of their elements than most of the characters we've seen so far. Well, maybe not Lee.**

**Brainstorming from the Writer's Den discord has greatly expanded my list, though there are still spots available if you have any really off the wall ideas. After four chapters and some extras, you should have an idea of the tone we're shooting for.**

**Don't forget to vote. Feedback, as always, is welcome. **


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